


Wolfstar- Grey Eyes

by PinkiePyrope1579



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Remus Lupin, Bittersweet Ending, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Canon Compliant, For My Moirail, GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY, Gay Sirius Black, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, POV Remus Lupin, foregone conclusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkiePyrope1579/pseuds/PinkiePyrope1579
Summary: Remus reminisces on days past, and worries over still caring about Sirius. Then, a meeting changes their lives forever.(A retelling of PoA's Shrieking Shack scene from Remus's POV.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friend/cousin Emma wrote this and wanted me to publish it! It's her first fanfic ever. Hope you enjoy ^.^

It was the first time in a lifetime that Remus had pulled the picture out willingly. It was the first time in a lifetime that he had turned it in his hands, studying the face that grinned up at him. He didn’t know if it was fate or coincidence, but the year had been full of firsts.  
The photo was frayed on the edges and lightly creased with age. For years, Remus had shoved the picture away, unable to look at it without his face clouding over and a rope pulling tight over his chest. He had hidden it in the pages of books; slid it into the depths of cluttered drawers; locked it away in cases and cabinets and closets. Remus did not want to see that face. He did not want to see that convict so young and beautiful and whole.  
If someone like Severus found him with a memento like this, Remus knew that no one would trust him. No one would keep a picture of a young Sirius Black, would they? No one who was on their side. Remus sighed deeply and sat down at his desk.  
Why did he keep it? Why did he keep a picture that was nothing more than a lie? Remus in all honesty didn't know. He didn't know why he let such things muddle his mind the way they did. But something about the way Sirius smiled, the way he looked straight into the camera and winked dramatically, the way he laughed with his pointy teeth showing… Remus hated to remember that Sirius Black, and to compare it to the pictures he saw in the newspaper. Yet, he wanted to remember him just the same.  
For a while, Remus sat quietly in his own company, turning the photograph between his fingers. Drafts from the office window occasionally displaced the still air, but everything was perfectly, peacefully quiet. For the first time almost all year, Remus rested his mind, slowly memorizing the man in the picture. _Sirius has grey eyes,_ he thought absently. Then came the familiar flickering of sorrow: November 1st, 1981. The day Remus heard what Black had done. The day everything fell apart. How could he have known that those eyes were hiding terrible truths? How could anyone have known?  
It must have been hours before anything disturbed Remus and his thoughts. It was as quick as a shadow, but for an instant, Remus felt a stare burrowing into his back. He turned to the window, looking out over the grounds, and there, for a split second, was a giant black dog. It moved like the wind, nothing more than a blur with a single faltering step. Remus had barely taken a breath and it was gone.  
It couldn't be him. Or could it? Remus’ immediate thought was to go inform Dumbledore, but he shook his head for the same selfish reason as always. If he told Dumbledore anything, he would have to tell Dumbledore _everything_ , and Remus wasn't quite sure if he could bear it. Running his finger along the perimeter of the photo, he realized what a greedy thing it was, to withhold truths. But Remus was determined that his secrets remain secret, even through the passage of time. In a way, he was hardly better than the escaped prisoner himself.  
Remus glanced down and noticed that the picture was crumpling and bending in his hands. With great circumspect, he flattened it on the table, right next to a blank Marauders Map. He turned back to the window a second time, searching again for the hulking canine. Peeves the Poltergeist glided through the partly-opened door and into the room, bobbing up to float along the ceiling.  
“Why if it isn't Looney, Looney Lupin!” Peeves smirked.  
“Go away.” Remus ordered, rolling his eyes, “I'm warning you, Peeves…”  
Peeves gave a nasty grin in response, looking down at the old picture on the desk. “Looney Lupin’s looking for something, isn't he? Looney Lupin’s lost something, hasn't he?”  
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Peeves?” Remus commented lightly, his voice sour with sarcasm.  
Peeves was laughing now, as if Remus’ misfortune was the best joke he'd ever been told. “Looney, Looney Lupin!” He cackled in an awful, singsong voice. “LOONEY, LOONEY LUPIN! LOONEY, LOONEY LUPIN’S LOST HIS LOVER!”  
Remus inhaled sharply from shock, seizing his wand and casting a spell at Peeves, who dodged it with glee.  
“WHO WAS YOUR LOVER, LOONEY?!?” Peeves jeered, a devilish expression building on his face. “WAS YOUR LOVER SIRIUS BLA -- ”  
Remus pushed his suitcase aside, trying to cast another spell, and the items on his desk toppled into a pile. Ink spilled and spread along the table, dripping and staining the floor. He was breathing hard, shaking his head, as if to shield himself from the onslaught of suppressed memories.  
Peeves had disappeared from sight, but his voice still crooned throughout the office. “I remember, Looney. I remember you at school. You were in looooove.” Peeves drawled out each word tauntingly. “You and that Sirius Black. You two were in looooove… Must be awful to see what he turned into. A criminal… a murderer...”  
Remus’ voice shook with anger. “It wasn’t my fault.” He clutched one fist hard on the desk, trying to get a grip with himself. He had never acted this way before, not in front of Harry, not in front of Dumbledore, not anyone. Why didn’t he just curse the bloody poltergeist? Why was he still listening? “It wasn’t my fault,” he repeated. But it was his fault; he knew it. He was so sure that he had known Sirius, so sure he had known Black’s intentions were good. But he had been wrong, and now James and Lily were dead, and _he should have known all along._  
"No one remembers Looney and Sirius Black at school, now do they? Tried to keep it quiet, you two did. But Peeves knew, yes sir! Peeves found out your little secret!”  
Remus’ throat had turned dry. “It seems like you would have had more productive things to do, Peeves, than follow two students around and weasel your way into their _own personal business._ ” He put heavy emphasis on the last three words and cast the spell again. Peeves grunted from around the corner, the curse sending the trickster tumbling out of the room.  
“Go tell Snape about that picture of yours, I should,” Remus heard Peeves threaten joyfully as he swooped away, laughter echoing up the corridor. “Go tell everyone that Looney misses his _boyfriend!_ ”  
Remus sank down in his chair, not bothering to clean up the momentary chaos around him. Closing his eyes, he wished for the world to just melt away around him. There was nothing you could do, he told himself desperately. Sirius fooled everyone… Remus paused. The photo lay open on the desktop, seeming very small and fragile. In one swift motion, he picked it up and shoved it in his pocket, turning away from the cloudy grey eyes that stared up at him. LOONEY, LOONEY LUPIN’S LOST HIS LOVER! sang the mocking tone of Peeves, etching itself painfully into Remus’ mind.


	2. Chapter 2

“Good afternoon, Lupin.” Remus raised his head up from the muffled darkness of his sleeve, his eyes flickering toward the speaker. Dumbledore stood comfortably in the doorway, his purple robes shimmering in the late daylight, his tall wizarding hat casting a crooked shadow across the floor. “May I take a seat?”  
Remus blinked and stirred himself into alertness. “Yes, Headmaster. Of course.” Dumbledore smiled and eased himself into an armchair opposite the desk. Remus nudged the Marauders Map under a stack of loose papers, hiding it from view. Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes turned from the documents, to Remus, and back. Remus met his gaze hesitantly.   
“Is there anything you would like to tell me, Remus?” Dumbledore asked. Remus once again thought about explaining everything to Dumbledore, just before the nauseating weight of actually doing so forced his mouth shut. His hand traced the faint outline of his pocket, drawing around the picture of Sirius. “No sir,” Remus said firmly.   
Dumbledore simply shook his head. An uncomfortable silence stretched between the two, causing Remus to rub the nape of his neck nervously. He didn’t know what Dumbledore was thinking, didn’t know what was revealed about the past and what remained hidden. “How has the potion been working for you?” Dumbledore asked next.   
“Very well, sir. I’m completely harmless when I take it.” Remus paused to think about his next words. “I still don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay for the kindness you’ve shown me. Not… not many people will hire werewolves, as you well know.”   
Dumbledore smiled. “Just think of it as a kind favor.”  
Remus cleared his throat. “Would you…” he began, his eyes darting about wildly for something to offer. “Would you like some chocolate, sir?” he asked, pulling a bar from a desk drawer.  
“I’m sure a piece wouldn’t hurt,” Dumbledore replied with a chuckle, reaching for a slab. Remus took one as well, letting the familiar sweetness flood the entirety of his mouth. For a moment, there was laughter and light and friends. For a moment, everything was okay. And then it wasn’t. “You’ve always loved chocolate, haven’t you Remus?” Dumbledore asked, pulling Remus back into the present. “Why is that?”  
Remus knew the answer immediately. “Chocolate… isn’t good for dogs. Too much of it kills them. When I was very young, and had just learned I was a werewolf, I figured that if I ate enough chocolate, I could kill the wolf parts of me. And the flavor is delicious, of course. So over the years, it’s just become a habit for me to have chocolate wherever I go. It takes me back sometimes, to when things were… simpler.”  
Dumbledore nodded. “Thoughts and memories are often the heaviest burdens we carry, Remus. Especially when they are tied to emotions. Emotions, while sometimes the greatest thing worth living for, are more often our worst nightmares… and our fatal weaknesses.”  
As a sad kind of silence fell over the room, Remus released a shuddering breath that he had been holding. “I can’t help remembering him, you know.”  
“Who? Sirius Black?”  
“Yes. The old one. I mean, the young one. The good one.”  
“Neither is good or bad. Don’t try to rid yourself of him. It’s a waste.”  
“You were the first person I came to that day after, remember? I was so desperate for it not to be true, for none of it to be true. I thought that I, of all people, would have guessed. You were the one that made me come to my senses… told me the truth, that he -”  
“- that he killed them. Yes. I know that it took a lot of willpower to believe that, and you did. You died that night too, didn’t you?”   
Remus’ voice cracked. “Yes.”  
“So did we all.” Dumbledore stood and began to stride towards the door. He paused with his hand on the frame and turned back to Remus, pushing his half-moon glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You know, I hear that you make a fine teacher, Lupin. The students say you’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they’ve ever had.”  
Remus jolted in surprise. “Really?”  
“From what I hear, yes,” Dumbledore replied, a twinkle once again sparkling in his eye.  
“I - I’m honored!” said Remus.   
“As you should be,” Dumbledore returned with a smile, the small bell on the tip of his hat jingling with renewed cheeriness as he swept out of the room. Remus pondered the Headmaster’s words for a spell afterward, inching the blank Marauder’s Map out from under the papers and once again laying it on the desk.


	3. Chapter 3

A warm glow spread across the floor of the office as the sun set low on the horizon. Remus fumbled around until the room was somewhat reorganized, not bothering to use magic for the task. Then, when he felt everything was sufficiently tidied, he turned to the yellowed surface of the map.   
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he muttered, quietly observing the inscribed letters flourish across the parchment.

 

**Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs  
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present the Marauder's Map. **

 

The messy scrawl of these four boys seemed like something from a dream. It was so familiar to Remus, yet it was the words of strangers. He did not know these students that spoke through the old map. Even his own handwriting was that of someone else. _We all grew up,_ he realized with a start, his heart sinking to his ankles. _We all had to grow up._  
The light from the sunset was now nothing more than a honey glow over the dark trees of the Forbidden Forest. Remus picked up the map, despite his best efforts to leave it alone. He was sick of the weight of these emotions, these memories. He was absolutely sick of them. Why was he doing this? He had never dwelled on the past as he did now. What was the point? It did him no good and only dragged him into a hovel of self-pity. I need to stop, he chastised, I need to stop right now. He stood up from his desk in a near-panic. _What am I doing? I have to stop; I need to stop; what is wrong with me?_  
He glanced out the window, searching for some distraction. Buckbeak’s execution would be around now, he remembered abruptly. There was a slight tug of guilt in his chest for not even sending a letter of sympathy to Hagrid, but at the same time he knew that there would be almost no way to give him consolation. Harry would try, he thought distractedly, Harry and Ron and Hermion-  
He cut himself off mid-sentence. They would be going to see Hagrid; Remus was sure of it. The mysterious black dog popped into Remus’ mind, moving so quickly along the grounds…. Remus flung open the map to where Hagrid’s hut would be and, sure enough, the same three names caught his eye.

 

**Harry Potter  
Ron Weasley  
Hermione Granger **

 

They were heading towards Hagrid’s hut, moving quickly and warily. _Probably under James’ old cloak,_ Remus assumed, his conscious twinging with worry at the darkening sky. _If Sirius is out there…_  
Remus hunched over, studying the trio intently as they entered the hut. He could protect them like a watchdog with this map. He could protect Harry. He set his gaze on the carefully-scrawled grounds, never wavering in his preparedness to run and help if trouble arose.   
The seconds ticked by slowly, one after the other, and still Remus stared at the group. Another minute passed, and another, and another…. Remus had just struck the twentieth minute when he saw the three figures exit. Or, what he thought was three. There, beside Ron, was a wavering blob of ink, as if the map was struggling with the identity of the new individual. Remus jumped to his feet, pushing the chair back to peer closer. The ink was forming a name, a name that came slowly into focus, a name belonging to someone Remus was sure no longer existed.

 

**Peter Pettigrew**

 

Remus sucked in a breath, a drum pounding in his ears. He groped his mind, tried to reason with himself. “That’s not possible… he’s dead…” Then, as fast a lightning, another name appeared, bolting toward Ron and Pettigrew. Remus’ heart stopped.

 

**Sirius Black**

“No,” Remus muttered, gripping his head between his hands. “No, no… He killed him! He killed him! Unless….” His voice caught in his throat, his mind moving a mile a minute. “He couldn’t have… Dumbledore said…all this time I ...” Remus felt very faint and let the map flutter to the desk. Sirius had seized Ron and Pettigrew and was dragging them towards the Whomping Willow; Harry and Hermione were following…. The map tracked every move, the names morphing into a tangled knot of ink. Remus seized his wand from the desk, scattering papers and books. His fingers were trembling, and he began to chant, over and over in his mind. _The map never lies, the map never lies, the map never lies._ Before thinking, before even realising he was moving, Remus dashed out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

The air was cool and damp as Remus sprinted onto the grounds. Clouds were scattered across the sky, piling on top of one another and spilling onto the lake as fog. Remus grabbed a broken tree branch and tapped the knot on the Whomping Willow’s trunk, causing it to freeze. Then he entered the tunnel.   
“Lumos,” he whispered, his voice breaking through the silence. His wand lit the space around him, and, his back bent, he barreled forward into the darkness.  
He remembered the passageway all too well. The curves, the uneven trail. He had walked it innumerable times at school. _Faster_ , he urged himself, _faster…._ The opening to the Shrieking Shack rose before him, and he scrambled inside.  
Dust covered every inch of the interior. Curtains were slashed and furniture toppled. I did that, he thought with a twist in his stomach, I did that. A streak appeared on the wooden floor, along with scattered pawprints and footsteps. From the upstairs came yelling and a loud thud. Remus ran up the steps and burst through the door. His eyes flashed to Ron, crumpled on the floor, to Hermione, crouching frightened by the doorway, to Harry, brandishing his wand over a cat, who was sitting on the chest of a bleeding, dirt-streaked Sirius.  
“Expelliarmus!” Harry’s wand flew into Remus’ hand, followed by the two Hermione was holding. Remus stared at Sirius, blood-stained and covered in grime. He was praying with all his heart, with every single fragment of his being, that the broken prisoner before him was innocent.  
“Where is he, Sirius?” Remus asked, his voice was tight with suppressed feeling.  
Black’s face was also strained with the effort to hold back emotion; he raised a finger and pointed at a rat that was wriggling in Ron’s hand. Remus stared hard at Sirius, trying to sort through the questions fogging his head.   
“"But then..." Remus muttered,"... why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" -- Remus's eyes widened, "-- unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?"  
Sirius nodded slowly, the eyes shining in his gaunt face never leaving Remus. Remus’ head was spinning, like a puzzle rearranging all its pieces. He believed Sirius. He believed him.   
“Professor, what’s going on -- ?” Harry asked loudly. Remus didn’t acknowledge him, but lowered his wand, a lump rising in his throat. He fixed his gaze intently on Sirius, and, as if in a daze, walked over, seized Black’s hand, and pulled him up into a tight embrace.   
“Dear God, dear _God_ ,” he gasped softly. He had never thought he would feel those arms around him again. Sirius pulled him tighter, and Remus held back a sob of relief. Sirius was innocent; he had been wrong.  
“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Hermione screamed. Remus dropped his arms and turned. She had a crazed look in her eyes, like a caged animal. “You...you…”  
“Hermione --”  
“-- you and him!”  
“Hermione, calm down --”  
Hermione didn’t calm down. “I didn’t tell anyone! I’ve been covering up for you!”  
Remus raised his voice above hers, “Hermione, listen to me please, I can explain --”  
Harry began to shout at Remus as well, the fury evident in his voice. “I trusted you! And all this time you’ve been his friend!”  
Remus felt the accusations from all sides. “You’re wrong,” he said, “I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now -- Let me explain…”  
“"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too -- he's a werewolf!"   
Remus paled. The silence seemed to stretch for hours. He started to speak.  
“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead.” Remus went cold and gave an odd sort of tremor. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."  
Ron flinched in pain as he attempted to stand. Remus, concerned, moved to help, but Ron gasped and scrambled backward. "Get away from me, werewolf!"   
The words struck Remus like a slap to the face. He turned to Hermione. "How long have you known?" he asked.   
"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."   
"He'll be delighted," said Remus coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant.... Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"  
"Both," Hermione said quietly. Remus forced a laugh. "You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."   
"I'm not," Hermione seemed to physically shrink before him. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"   
"But they already know," Remus gestured with feigned casually. "At least, the staff do."   
"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?” Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"  
"Some of the staff thought so," said Remus. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy --"   
"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry roared, "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THIS TIME!" Remus followed Harry’s pointing finger to Black, who abruptly crossed to the four-poster bed, sank downward, and covered his face in one trembling hand. The cat, whose name Remus vaguely remembered to be Crookshanks, purred and swiftly leapt onto Black’s lap. Dragging his leg, Ron inched away from them both. Remus wanted more than anything to sit down next to Sirius and stay, just them, simply existing as if nothing had happened at all.  
“I have not been helping Sirius," denied Remus tiredly. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look --" He separated Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw each back to its owner. “There.” Remus slipped his own wand back into his belt "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"   
Harry gave a furious glance at Black, "If you haven't been helping him, how did you know he was here?"   
"The map. The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it --"   
"You know how to work it?" Harry questioned suspiciously.   
"Of course I know how to work it," said Remus, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony -- that was my friend’s' nickname for me at school."   
"You wrote --?"   
Remus cut Harry off, exasperated. "The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?” He had started to pace back and forth around the room, looking from one person to the other. "You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry--"   
"How d'you know about the cloak?"   
"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it...," said Remus, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."   
"What?" exclaimed Harry. "No, we weren't!"  
“I couldn't believe my eyes," said Remus, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"   
"No one was with us!" said Harry. Remus continued ignoring him. "And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black.... I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow --"   
"One of us!" Ron cut in angrily.   
"No, Ron," Remus replied. "Two of you." He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron. "Do you think I could have a look at that rat?" he asked evenly.   
"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"   
"Everything," said Remus. "Could I see him, please?" He noticed Ron’s hesitation as he pulled the rat from his pocket. It swung about, scrabbling around, thrashing, desperately -- pitifully -- attempting escape. Crookshanks stood up on Black’s leg and hissed, his fur bristling. Remus moved closer to Ron, the floor creaking underneath his shoes. He held his breath and stared raptly at the rat.   
"What?" Ron asked again, grasping the mangy rodent close to him, seemingly scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"   
"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly. Remus’ heart jolted; this was the first time he had heard Sirius speak aloud in what seemed like a lifetime.   
What d'you mean -- of course he's a rat --"   
"No, he's not," said Remus softly. "He's a wizard."   
"An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."


	5. Chapter 5

Remus watched the disbelief spread across the three student’s faces, and braced himself for the eminent backlash.  
Ron was the first to speak up. “You’re both mental.”  
“Ridiculous!” Hermione stated, her voice thin.  
“Peter Pettigrew’s dead!” argued Harry, “He killed him twelve years ago!” Harry pointed once again at Black, whose face twitched convulsively at the accusation. _Keep it together, Sirius,_ Remus silently begged. _Just for now, keep it together._

Sirius growled and bared his teeth like a lunatic. “I meant to, but little Peter got the better of me... not this time, though!” 

Crookshanks was flung to the floor as Sirius wildly propelled himself off the bed to grab for the rat. Ron shouted as Black dropped onto his broken leg. Remus jumped forward to hold Sirius back. 

“Sirius, NO!” he yelled desperately, grasping Black’s dirty robes and dragging him away from Ron. “WAIT! You can’t do it just like that -- they need to understand -- we’ve got to explain -- ” 

Sirius struggled in Remus’ grip. “We can explain afterwards!” Black snarled, trying to throw Remus off. Remus strained against the opposing weight, holding his ground as best he could with Sirius still groping one arm for the rodent, which was squeaking and scratching Ron’s face in a panic. 

“They’ve -- got -- a -- right -- to -- know -- everything!” Remus panted, gasping from the continued effort to refrain a frantic Black. He urgently tried again to get through to Sirius. “Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand, and Harry -- you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!” 

Sirius went limp in Remus’ grasp, his eyes still set on the rat clutched in Ron’s bloodied hands. 

“Alright, then.” he said, his gazed still unfaltering. Remus exhaled in relief. “Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…” 

“You’re nutters, both of you,” Ron said, his voice shaking. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.” 

No. No, Remus would not allow that. He raised his wand as Ron tried to stand and brace himself on his good leg. 

“You’re going to hear me out, Ron,” he said quietly. “Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen.” 

“HE’S NOT PETER, HE’S SCABBERS!” Ron yelled, trying to force a wriggling rat down his pocket and losing his balance. Harry pushed Ron onto the bed and turned toward Remus. 

“There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die,” he said, “A whole street full of them...” 

‘They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” said Black savagely, still staring at the rat. Remus nudged him. _Keep calm, Sirius._

“Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,” said Remus, nodding. “I believed it myself -- until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder’s Map never lies… Peter’s alive. Ron’s holding him, Harry.” 

Hermione piped up, trembling, her voice imitating a calm manner. “But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can’t be Pettigrew… it just can’t be true, you know it can’t…” 

Remus addressed her placidly, as though they were both in the middle of class. “Why can’t it be true?” 

“Because… because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework -- the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there’s a register showing what animals they become, and their markings and things… and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew’s name wasn’t on the list.” 

Remus began to laugh. “Right again, Hermione! But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts.” 

“If you’re going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus,” interrupted Black, continually tracking the rat’s every movement. “I’ve waited twelve years, I’m not going to wait much longer.” Remus exhaled slowly. 

“All right… but you’ll need to help me, Sirius,” he said softly, “I only know how it began...” 

A loud creak sounded behind him, and Remus fell silent. The bedroom door had swung open on its own accord. Everyone stared at it. Remus strode forward and peered out into the landing. 

“No one's there…” 

Ron’s eyes were flitting back and forth nervously. “This place is haunted!” 

Remus kept staring at the door, puzzled. “It’s not. The Shrieking Shack was never haunted…. The screams and howls that the villagers used to hear were made by me.” 

He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment, and said, “That’s where all of this starts -- with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn’t been bitter… and if I hadn’t been so foolhardy…” 

Remus was tired. So very, very tired. He looked at Sirius, and the lump in his throat returned. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione, studying Remus intently, shushed him. Remus took a deep breath and began. 

“I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform…. I’m able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.” 

“Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren’t likely to want their children exposed to me.” 

“But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn’t come to school….” Remus sighed, feeling very heavy. He turned directly to Harry. “I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house” Remus glanced miserably around the dilapidated room -- “the tunnel that leads to it -- they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous.” 

“My transformations in those days were -- were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor…. Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don’t dare approach it….” 

“But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… and, of course, your father, Harry -- James Potter.” 

“Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her…. I was terrified that they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth….” 

Remus smiled faintly. “And they didn’t desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.” 

“My dad too?” asked Harry, staring at Remus dumbfoundedly. Remus nodded. 

“Yes, indeed,” he said, “It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong -- one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will.” 

“But how did that help you?” questioned Hermione. 

“They couldn’t keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals,” said Remus. “A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James’ Invisibility Cloak. They transformed… Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow’s attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.” 

“Hurry up, Remus,” snarled Sirius, who was still watching the rat. Remus was taken aback by the demented hunger in Black’s eyes. 

“I’m getting there, Sirius, I’m getting there… well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did…. And that’s how we came to write the Marauder’s Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs.” 

Remus paused to get his bearings. “What sort of animal -- ” Harry began, but was cut off by Hermione. 

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?” 

Remus looked down at his feet, rubbing his hand over his face. “The thought still haunts me,” he stated heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless -- carried away with our own cleverness.” 

“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course…. He had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for mine and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed…” 

Remus’s face hardened with self-disgust, his hands clasped into fists. He was angry at himself, but at the same time… he looked toward Sirius once again. Sirius, who was really there, was really before him, living, breathing, innocent. He needed Sirius to listen, maybe even more than the children. “All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his trust while at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me… and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it…. So, in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.” 

“Snape?” Black said hoarsely, finally prying his eyes from the rat to look at Remus. “What’s Snape got to do with it?” 

“He’s here, Sirius,” Remus returned. “He’s teaching here as well.” Remus then spoke to the trio. 

“Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick involving me -- ” 

Black made a derisive noise, his lip curling. “It served him right, sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled....” Remus gave Sirius a stern look before continuing. 

“Severus was very interested in where I went every month.” Remus told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “We were in the same year, you know, and we -- er -- didn’t like each other very much.” Remus grimaced. “He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James’ talent on the Quidditch field…. Anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madame Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform.” Remus faltered again. “Sirius thought it would be -- er -- amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he’d be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it -- if he’d gotten as far as this house, he’d have met a fully-grown werewolf -- but your father, who’d heard what Sirius had done, when after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life…. Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was….” 

Remus shuddered slightly. “So that’s why Snape doesn’t like you,” Harry said, “because he thought you were in on the joke?” 

“That’s right,” sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Remus. 

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Remus.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a strange buzzing in Remus’ head, and he heard Hermione scream. Sirius jumped to his feet. Snape threw the cloak aside in triumph, careful to keep the wand aimed at Remus’ chest. “I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,” he explained, turning to Harry. “Very useful, Potter, I thank you...”  
Snape’s eyes were gleaming. “You’re wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?” He gave a contemptuous smile. “I’ve just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight.”  
“Severus -- ” Remus began. Snape overrode him.   
“”I’ve told the headmaster again and again that you’ve been helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here’s the proof. Not even I dreamed that you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout -- ”  
“Severus, you’re making a mistake,” replied Remus urgently. “You haven’t heard everything -- I can explain -- Sirius is not here to kill Harry -- ”  
“Two more for Azkaban tonight,” said Snape, his expression twisting fanatically. “I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this…. He was quite convinced that you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a tame werewolf -- ”   
Remus’ heartbeat was in his ears, his teeth clenched. “You fool,” he muttered, “Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back in Azkaban?”  
BANG! Tightly-woven cords snaked from Snape’s wand and twisted around Remus’ mouth, wrists, ankles… He flailed about, his eyes met Black’s… he toppled to the ground, unable to move. _SIRIUS,_ his mind screamed, _SIRIUS!!!_  
Black roared with rage and started toward Snape, but Severus pointed his wand straight between Sirius’ eyes.   
“Give me a reason,” Snape whispered menacingly. “Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will.” Remus wrestled with his restraints. He had to get to Black, he had to --   
Sirius stopped dead. The tension between Snape’s and Black’s gazes was bubbling with hatred. Remus was paralyzed, his breath coming in muffled gasps. _Sirius…_  
Hermione’s wavering voice seemed very far away. “Professor Snape -- ” she asked, breathless, “it wouldn’t hurt to hear what they’ve got say, w -- would it?”  
“Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school. You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold you tongue.”   
“But if -- if there were a mistake -- ”  
“KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!” Remus flinched for Hermione’s sake; Snape was looking incredibly deranged. “DON’T TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” A few sparks spat out of the end of Snape’s wand, still pointed at Sirius’ face. Hermione ceased to talk.   
Remus’ muscles were screaming as he once again tried to reach Black, to help him. “Vengeance is very sweet,” Snape breathed at Sirius, “How I hoped I would be the one to catch you….”   
“The joke’s on you again, Severus,” Black growled, “As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle” -- Sirius jerked his head at Ron -- “I’ll come quietly….”  
“Up to the castle?” said Snape silkily. “I don’t think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be very pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay…”   
All the color drained from Sirius’ face. Remus lashed out in a panic. Snape couldn’t do that, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t… _Not Sirius, please not Sirius…_ Remus silently pleaded.  
Black seemed just as frightened. “You -- you’ve got to hear me out,” he croaked, “The rat -- look at the rat -- ”   
Remus knew Snape was beyond reasoning. There was a glint in his eye that could only be found in a madman.  
“Come on, all of you,” Snape ordered, snapping his fingers. The ropes that bound Remus flew into his hands. “I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too -- ” Remus twisted his head and saw Sirius staring at him, he eyes shining oddly. Remus held the gaze, and nodded softly. _I know._  
Then, Remus watched in awe as Harry crossed the room and blocked the door.  
“Get out of the way, Potter, you’re in enough trouble already,” Snape commanded, “If I hadn’t been here to save your skin -- ”   
“Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year. I’ve been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn’t he just kill me then?”  
Remus swallowed hard, watching the two intensely. “Don’t ask me to fathom the way a werewolf’s mind works,” Snape hissed in reply. “Get out of the way, Potter.”  
“YOU’RE PATHETIC! JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL, YOU WON’T EVEN LISTEN -- ”  
“SILENCE!” Snape shrieked, “I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT! Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck, you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black -- now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!”   
Remus looked to Sirius, who had inched closer to him in the midst of the argument. Remus was puzzled until Sirius motioned for him to watch Ron and Hermione. All of a sudden he was blinded by a flash of light as three voices shouted “EXPELLIARMUS!” The whole house rattled, and Snape was raised off his feet and thrown into the wall. His limp form slid to the floor, blood trickling down his head. He was out cold, his wand arcing through the air to land next to Crookshanks on the bed. All three students had tried to disarm him at once. The house was filled with a ringing silence.  
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Black said to Harry, “You should have left him to me…”  
Hermione was whimpering. “We attacked a teacher… _We attacked a teacher…_ Oh, we’re going to be in so much trouble…"  
Remus strained against his bonds. Sirius bent down and untangled him. “Moony...” he whispered, so only Remus would hear. Remus shakily took Sirius’ hand and stood up, rubbing his arms were the ropes had cut into him. For a second, just for a second, there was the Sirius Black that Remus once knew.   
Remus turned to Harry. “Thank you, Harry.”  
“I’m still not saying I believe you.”  
“Then it’s time we offered you some proof,” said Remus. “You, boy -- give me Peter, please. Now.”  
Remus held out his hand for the rat, but Ron clutched it tighter.   
"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean…” Ron sputtered. "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat -- there are millions of rats -- how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"  
"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Remus, frowning and turning to Black. "How did you find out where he was?"  
Black slipped his hand inside his ragged robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper. Remus watched him smooth it flat and hold it out to show him.  
It was the photograph torn out of the Daily Prophet of Ron and his family the previous summer. Remus peered closer and there, on Ron's shoulder, was the rat.  
"How did you get this?" Remus asked Sirius, thunderstruck.  
"Fudge," answered Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy's shoulder... I knew him at once... how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts... to where Harry was…”  
"My God," Remus gasped softly, staring back and forth from the rodent to the picture in the paper. "His front paw..."  
"What about it?" asked Ron.   
"He's got a toe missing," said Black.  
"Of course," Remus breathed, all of the pieces falling into place in his mind. But the more he made sense of what happened, the more guilt weighed upon his chest. "So simple... so brilliant... he cut it off himself?"  
"Just before he transformed," said Black, his eyes drilling into Remus. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself -- and sped down into the sewer with the other rats...."  
“Didn’t you ever hear, Ron?” said Remus, his eyes straying to the scrawny, flea-bitten animal in Ron’s hand. “The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger.”  
"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right --"  
"Twelve years, in fact," said Remus. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"  
"We -- we've been taking good care of him!" Ron argued.  
"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" Remus replied, gesturing with his hand. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again...."  
"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Ron titled his head toward Crookshanks, who remained purring contently on the bed.  
“"This cat isn't mad," denied Black hoarsely. He extended a thin hand and stroked Crookshanks’ fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met,” said Sirius, “He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me.... Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me.”   
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.  
"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't... so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me.... As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table....” Black explained. “But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it. This cat -- Crookshanks, did you call him? -- told me Peter had left blood on the sheets.... I supposed he bit himself... Well, faking his own death had worked once."  
“And why did he fake his death?” Harry questioned, angry once more. Remus massaged his temples and prepared himself for another bout of allegations toward Sirius. “Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!” Harry shouted.   
Remus began to defend Sirius. “No, Harry -- ”  
“And now you’ve come to finish him off!”  
“Yes, I have.” There was a determined edge in Sirius’ voice; he gave the rat a wicked look.  
“Then I should have let Snape take you!”  
“Harry,” Remus hurriedly broke in, “don’t you see? All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down -- but it was the other way around, don’t you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father -- Sirius tracked Peter down -- ”  
“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Harry yelled. “HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!”   
Remus didn’t expect the reaction that came from Black. Sirius was shaking his head slowly, his sunken eyes too bright. It was as if he were staring at something in the distance that only he could see, yet he couldn’t reach what he searched for. Remus knew that feeling too well. He quietly walked over and sat next to Sirius, their knees barely touching.   
“Harry… I as good as killed them,” Black rasped. “"I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me.... I'm to blame, I know it.... The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies... I realized what Peter must've done... what I'd done....”   
Sirius’s voice cracked, and he turned away. Remus could see the tears in his eyes; he could see the pain. And it scared him.   
“Enough of this," Remus said, his voice steely. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."  
"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked tensely.   
"Force him to show himself," Remus explained. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."  
There was a final hesitation before, at long last, Ron held out the rat to Remus. Remus stood up and took the creature, and it began to squeal and squirm around crazily, its beady black eyes bulging in its head.   
"Ready, Sirius?" Remus asked softly.  
Black grabbed Snape’s wand and clutched it firmly in his hand. He came up beside Remus and the floundering rat, his damp eyes seeming to burn in his hollowed-out face.  
“Together?” he asked, his voice fragile.  
“I think so,” Remus replied, holding the rat tightly. His free hand hand brushed Sirius’ as he took his wand from his belt. Their eyes met. “On the count of three. One -- two -- THREE!”


	7. Chapter 7

Blue-white light burst from both Remus and Sirius’ wands. The rat was frozen in the air, its frail, gray form thrashing madly -- Ron yelled in alarm -- the rat fell and hit the floor with a thump. There was another blinding flash of light and then --  
A head sprouted upward from the ground, limbs shooting out to the sides. Remus tightened his grip on his wand and briefly put a hand on Sirius’ arm, not entirely certain that he wouldn’t have to restrain him again. After a moment, a man was standing in place of the rat, cowering and wringing his hands. Crookshanks hissed and growled from the bed, his hair on end.  
Remus studied the man before him. Peter was as short as he remembered. His head was nearly bald except for a few pale, strangling hairs, and his skin was the same grubby shade as a rodent. While he had once been round in appearance, he was now shrunken and hunched over. Traces of the rat lingered in his cramped, watery eyes and pointed nose. His breathing filled the room, fast and shallow, as he turned to look at them all. Remus watched his eyes dart from the door to the windows and back.  
"Well, hello, Peter," stated Remus pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see.”  
"S -- Sirius... R -- Remus..." Pettigrew stuttered. Even his voice squeaked. His eyes flashed to the door again. "My friends... my old friends..."  
 _We’re not your friends,_ Remus thought fiercely. Black's wand arm rose, but Remus seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice as light and casual as he could make it seem.   
"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed --"  
"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, sweat beading up on his sallow forehead, “you don’t believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus….”  
"So we've heard," said Remus, his voice colder. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so --"  
"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew whimpered suddenly, pointing at Black with his middle finger, for lack of an index one. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too.... You've got to help me, Remus...."  
Remus thought Sirius’ face looked more skeletal than it ever as he glared at Pettigrew with fathomless eyes.  
"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," Remus assured.  
"Sorted things out?" yelped Pettigrew, peering frantically at the door and boarded windows once more. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"  
"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" questioned Remus, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"  
"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"  
Black began to laugh. It was a horrible, mirthless laugh, full of nothing but burning hatred and betrayal and regret…. Remus had never heard anything like it, had never thought he would hear such an awful sound come from Sirius.  
"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" asked Black.  
Peter winced as if Sirius’ words stung like a whip.   
"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" taunted Black. “I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"  
"Don't know what you mean, Sirius --" mumbled Pettigrew, air passing through his lungs rapidly. The entirety of his face was now slick and shining with sweat.   
"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Black with a quiet, deadly tone. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter... They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them.... I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information... and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter --"  
"Don't know... what you're talking about..." said Pettigrew again, his voice a high-pitched rasp. He mopped his face with one grungy sleeve and shot Remus a panicked look. "You don't believe this -- this madness, Remus --"  
"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," stated Remus, articulating every word with force. His kept his teeth glued to his jaw, not trusting himself to stay calm any more than he trusted Sirius.  
"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban -- the spy, Sirius Black!"  
Black's face contorted. Remus tensed.  
"How dare you," Sirius growled, nearly indistinguishable from his massive dog form for an instant. “I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter -- I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us... me and Remus... and James....”  
Pettigrew wiped his face again; stuttering and wheezing.   
"Me, a spy... must be out of your mind... never... don't know how you can say such a --"  
"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black spoke with a sharp hiss. Venom seemed to drip from his words, and Pettigrew took a few steps back. "I thought it was the perfect plan... a bluff... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you.... It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."  
Remus felt revulsion sink into his bones as he watched Peter mutter such things as "far-fetched" and "lunacy” under his breath. His ashen face and fearful eyes spoke louder than his flimsy excuses.  
"Professor Lupin?" questioned Hermione apprehensively. "Can -- can I say something?"   
"Certainly, Hermione," granted Remus with a polite nod.   
"Well -- Scabbers -- I mean, this -- this man -- he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"  
"There!" Pettigrew shrieked, swinging his disfigured hand to point at Hermione. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"  
"I'll tell you why," snarled Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him...."  
Pettigrew opened and closed his mouth, over and over, gulping like a fish. The silence was deafening.   
"Er -- Mr. Black -- Sirius?" asked Hermione.  
Sirius seemed startled at being addressed this way, and he gave Hermione an odd look. For a brief moment, Remus felt the strangest urge to laugh and sob at the same time; he was nearly certain Sirius had never been referred to as “Mr. Black” since he had left Hogwarts.  
"If you don't mind me asking, how -- how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?" Hermione continued.  
"Thank you!" Pettigrew interrupted, frantically nodding his head back and forth."Exactly! Precisely what I --"  
It took only a single glance from Remus to silence Peter. Sirius was wearing a scowl, but it was not from aggravation so much as contemplation. _It’s like he’s in class, _Remus considered vaguely, _and Hermione is a very difficult professor… _  
"I don't know how I did it," Black said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't suck it out of me... but it kept me sane and knowing who I am... helped me keep my powers... so when it all became ... too much... I could transform in my cell... become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know...." He swallowed, and Remus saw the distant expression return to his face. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions.... They could tell that my feelings were less -- less human, less complex when I was a dog... but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand...."  
"But then I saw Peter in that picture... I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry... perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again...."  
Pettigrew was violently shaking his head, once again resembling a fish, but his eyes were fixed on Sirius as though he were going through some horror-induced trance.   
"... ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies... and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors....”  
"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive...."  
"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn't destroy it.... It wasn't a happy feeling... it was an obsession... but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog.... It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions and they were confused.... I was thin, very thin... thin enough to slip through the bars.... I swam as a dog back to the mainland.... I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry...."  
Sirius looked to Harry, who looked back. Remus watched them both intensely, watched as if he were in Black’s place, praying…. _Believe him, Harry. I know this man; I know him, Harry. Believe him._  
"Believe me," Black croaked pleadingly. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."  
Harry gave a slow nod, turning from Sirius to Remus and back.  
"No!"  
Pettigrew collapsed to the floor, his hands clasped together, groveling at their feet. He shuffled forward on his knees, as if within that single nod he had been sentenced to death.  
"Sirius -- it's me... it's Peter... your friend... you wouldn't --" Sirius gave a hard kick toward Pettigrew, who shrank away.   
"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," Black spat.  
"Remus!" Peter now turned toward him, writhing his hands desperately. "You don't believe this, wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"  
"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Remus with a rueful smile. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he asked over Pettigrew’s head.  
"Forgive me, Remus," said Black softly.  
Remus let the words sink in. Then, he grinned. It was as if something had shifted, as if a small part of him had been put back together with Sirius’ three words. "Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," Remus replied with a small laugh. He began to roll his sleeves up. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"  
"Of course," stated Black readily, and a whisper of a smile flashed onto his gaunt face, lingering in Remus’ vision. Everything can go back to how it was, the smile seemed to say. Everything will be alright. Sirius started to fold up his sleeves as well. "Shall we kill him together?"  
"Yes, I think so," said Remus darkly, his eyes trained on Sirius.  
"You wouldn't... you won't...," stammered Pettigrew. He began turning around the room like a clockwork.  
"Ron... haven't I been a good friend... a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you... you're on my side, aren't you?”  
Ron gave no support, but an expression of complete nausea. "I let you sleep in my bed!"  
"Kind boy... kind master..." Pettigrew scrambled forward. "You won't let them do it.... I was your rat.... I was a good pet...."  
"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," stated Black roughly. Ron turned a shade paler as he repositioned his leg further away from his former pet. Pettigrew next stumbled to Hermione, clutching the hem of her robes.  
"Sweet girl... clever girl... you -- you won't let them.... Help me...."  
Hermione pulled her robes out of reach and backed into the wall, looked utterly horrified.   
Peter struggled to Harry, kneeling on the dusty floor.  
"Harry... Harry... you look just like your father... just like him...."   
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" hollered Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?" Remus put his hand on Sirius’ chest automatically. He could feel Black’s heart pounding away beneath his fingers, inside a body that had grown too fragile to carry such a weight.  
"Harry," Pettigrew shuffled forward, his arm stretching toward the boy. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed.... James would have understood, Harry... he would have shown me mercy..."   
Something snapped in Remus and Sirius at the same time. Remus didn’t know if it was Pettigrew’s mention of James or how Peter crawled to Harry like an animal, but any consequence that had slipped into his mind was now blinded by one thought, one that he knew was identical to Sirius: _Get away._  
Both Remus and Sirius marched over, gripped Pettigrew’s arms between them, and cast him backward onto the ground. He sat there dumbly, terror evident on his face, twitching and staring at him and Black.  
"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," accused Sirius, shaking in rage. "Do you deny it?"  
Peter burst into tears; Remus felt no pity, no compassion for the dirty, bawling lump of a person before him. He felt nothing except burning anger for what this man had destroyed, whom he had murdered, what lives he had torn apart. Sirius was clutching Remus’ arm so hard that it hurt, a mad gleam in his eye.  
"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done?” Pettigrew whimpered. “The Dark Lord... you have no idea... he has weapons you can't imagine.... I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen.... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me --"  
“DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"  
"He -- he was taking over everywhere!" wheezed Pettigrew. "Wh -- what was there to be gained by refusing him?"  
"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" shouted Black, hot fury seeming to radiate off of him. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"  
"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"  
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Black roared. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"  
Remus pressed his shoulder up against Black and they both raised their wands.  
"You should have realized," Remus said quietly, each chilling word hitting it’s mark, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."  
Remus was seeing through a long tunnel, aware of nothing but Sirius’ back pressed into him and his wand grasped tightly in his hand. This murderer was going to die. His and Black’s voices started together….  
"NO!" Harry streaked into Remus’ vision, blocking Pettigrew from them. "You can't kill him," he announced, panting. "You can't."  
"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled, his lip curling hatefully at Pettigrew. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."  
"I know," Harry said breathlessly. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors.... He can go to Azkaban... but don't kill him."  
"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew. "You -- thank you -- it's more than I deserve -- thank you --" Peter flung his arms outward and latched onto Harry’s legs.   
"Get off me," Harry snapped. He kicked Pettigrew off of him with visible disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because -- I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers -- just for you."  
The only sound was Peter’s loud breathing as he clutched his chest. Remus looked to Sirius uncertainly. Once, long ago, Black had been the one that reassured Remus that he wouldn’t kill anyone, that everything would be okay. _Sirius has grey eyes._ There was that arbitrary thought, rooted out randomly from the back of his head. Once again it weaved through Remus’ mind as if it were a single, great truth he could cling to, something that was real and permanent, beyond the questioning of one’s own thoughts and actions. He had the picture. It was proof. Sirius has grey eyes.   
Remus blinked and turned to Harry, almost unbelieving. How could this boy, this boy who he thought of like a son, defend his parent’s murderer? It seemed impossible, but then again, hadn’t everything seem so tonight?   
"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Black. "But think... think what he did...."  
"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does...."  
Pettigrew continued to wheeze on the floor.  
"Very well," Remus conceded. "Stand aside, Harry."  
The distrusting look he was given prompted him to elaborate.   
"I'm going to tie him up," he promised. "That's all, I swear."   
Harry moved aside, and cables now shot from Remus’ wand, tying and gagging a squirming Pettigrew.   
“But if you transform, Peter,” Sirius growled menacingly, his wand raised to point at Pettigrew as well, “we will kill you. You agree, Harry?”  
Harry gave a nod.   
“Right,” Remus stated, getting his bearings. “Ron, I can’t mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it’s best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing.”  
Remus made his way over to Ron, trying not to waste any time. He lightly tapped the injured leg with the tip of his wand, muttering “Ferula” under his breath. Rolls of bandaged unfurled and twisted into a splint around Ron’s leg. Remus helped ease Ron off the bed, bracing the extra weight. Then, he felt the load lighten as the boy took one cautious step after the other on his own without flinching in pain.  
“That's better,” Ron said politely, “Thanks.”   
“What about Professor Snape?” Hermione asked weakly, staring at the collapsed figure.   
Remus gave a small shrug. With great effort, he bent over and checked Snape’s pulse. “There’s nothing seriously wrong with him. You were just a little... overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er -- perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this….”  
Remus straightened back up and murmured “Mobilicorpus.” As if Snape were the marionette of a hidden puppeteer, invisible strings tugged his limp form up to a stand, hovering above the ground. His head bobbed up and down, lolling back and forth appallingly. Remus picked the Invisibility Cloak up from the floor, soft fabric rippling across his fingers. He folded it away in his pocket, right next to the faded picture of Sirius.  
“And two of us should be chained to _this_____ ,” commented Black, jabbing Pettigrew with his foot. “Just to make sure.”  
“I'll do it,” Remus volunteered immediately.  
“And me,” Ron added, limping toward him.  
Black waved his wand, and leaden chains appeared in the air beside him. Pettigrew was lifted onto his feet, and Ron was chained to his right arm. Sirius locked the other manacle onto Remus, leaving his own palm there for just a moment longer.  
Remus looked up. Sirius seemed to be watching him as if he was only now certain he was there. Sirius has grey eyes. Remus gave a half-smile and took Black’s rawboned hand for an instant. Crookshanks bounded off of the bed and led them through the door. Everyone followed close behind, making their way out of the boarded-up shack.


	8. Chapter 8

Blue-white light burst from both Remus and Sirius’ wands. The rat was frozen in the air, its frail, gray form thrashing madly -- Ron yelled in alarm -- the rat fell and hit the floor with a thump. There was another blinding flash of light and then --  
A head sprouted upward from the ground, limbs shooting out to the sides. Remus tightened his grip on his wand and briefly put a hand on Sirius’ arm, not entirely certain that he wouldn’t have to restrain him again. After a moment, a man was standing in place of the rat, cowering and wringing his hands. Crookshanks hissed and growled from the bed, his hair on end.  
Remus studied the man before him. Peter was as short as he remembered. His head was nearly bald except for a few pale, strangling hairs, and his skin was the same grubby shade as a rodent. While he had once been round in appearance, he was now shrunken and hunched over. Traces of the rat lingered in his cramped, watery eyes and pointed nose. His breathing filled the room, fast and shallow, as he turned to look at them all. Remus watched his eyes dart from the door to the windows and back.  
"Well, hello, Peter," stated Remus pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see.”  
"S -- Sirius... R -- Remus..." Pettigrew stuttered. Even his voice squeaked. His eyes flashed to the door again. "My friends... my old friends..."  
_We’re not your friends,_ Remus thought fiercely. Black's wand arm rose, but Remus seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice as light and casual as he could make it seem.  
"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed --"  
"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, sweat beading up on his sallow forehead, “you don’t believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus….”  
"So we've heard," said Remus, his voice colder. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so --"  
"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew whimpered suddenly, pointing at Black with his middle finger, for lack of an index one. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too.... You've got to help me, Remus...."  
Remus thought Sirius’ face looked more skeletal than it ever as he glared at Pettigrew with fathomless eyes.  
"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," Remus assured.  
"Sorted things out?" yelped Pettigrew, peering frantically at the door and boarded windows once more. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"  
"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" questioned Remus, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"  
"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"  
Black began to laugh. It was a horrible, mirthless laugh, full of nothing but burning hatred and betrayal and regret…. Remus had never heard anything like it, had never thought he would hear such an awful sound come from Sirius.  
"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" asked Black.  
Peter winced as if Sirius’ words stung like a whip.  
"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" taunted Black. “I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"  
"Don't know what you mean, Sirius --" mumbled Pettigrew, air passing through his lungs rapidly. The entirety of his face was now slick and shining with sweat.  
"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Black with a quiet, deadly tone. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter... They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them.... I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information... and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter --"  
"Don't know... what you're talking about..." said Pettigrew again, his voice a high-pitched rasp. He mopped his face with one grungy sleeve and shot Remus a panicked look. "You don't believe this -- this madness, Remus --"  
"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," stated Remus, articulating every word with force. His kept his teeth glued to his jaw, not trusting himself to stay calm any more than he trusted Sirius.  
"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban -- the spy, Sirius Black!"  
Black's face contorted. Remus tensed.  
"How dare you," Sirius growled, nearly indistinguishable from his massive dog form for an instant. “I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter -- I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us... me and Remus... and James....”  
Pettigrew wiped his face again; stuttering and wheezing.  
"Me, a spy... must be out of your mind... never... don't know how you can say such a --"  
"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black spoke with a sharp hiss. Venom seemed to drip from his words, and Pettigrew took a few steps back. "I thought it was the perfect plan... a bluff... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you.... It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."  
Remus felt revulsion sink into his bones as he watched Peter mutter such things as "far-fetched" and "lunacy” under his breath. His ashen face and fearful eyes spoke louder than his flimsy excuses.  
"Professor Lupin?" questioned Hermione apprehensively. "Can -- can I say something?"  
"Certainly, Hermione," granted Remus with a polite nod.  
"Well -- Scabbers -- I mean, this -- this man -- he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"  
"There!" Pettigrew shrieked, swinging his disfigured hand to point at Hermione. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"  
"I'll tell you why," snarled Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him...."  
Pettigrew opened and closed his mouth, over and over, gulping like a fish. The silence was deafening.  
"Er -- Mr. Black -- Sirius?" asked Hermione.  
Sirius seemed startled at being addressed this way, and he gave Hermione an odd look. For a brief moment, Remus felt the strangest urge to laugh and sob at the same time; he was nearly certain Sirius had never been referred to as “Mr. Black” since he had left Hogwarts.  
"If you don't mind me asking, how -- how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?" Hermione continued.  
"Thank you!" Pettigrew interrupted, frantically nodding his head back and forth."Exactly! Precisely what I --"  
It took only a single glance from Remus to silence Peter. Sirius was wearing a scowl, but it was not from aggravation so much as contemplation. _It’s like he’s in class, _Remus considered vaguely, _and Hermione is a very difficult professor… _____  
"I don't know how I did it," Black said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't suck it out of me... but it kept me sane and knowing who I am... helped me keep my powers... so when it all became ... too much... I could transform in my cell... become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know...." He swallowed, and Remus saw the distant expression return to his face. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions.... They could tell that my feelings were less -- less human, less complex when I was a dog... but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand...."  
"But then I saw Peter in that picture... I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry... perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again...."  
Pettigrew was violently shaking his head, once again resembling a fish, but his eyes were fixed on Sirius as though he were going through some horror-induced trance.  
"... ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies... and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors....”  
"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive...."  
"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn't destroy it.... It wasn't a happy feeling... it was an obsession... but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog.... It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions and they were confused.... I was thin, very thin... thin enough to slip through the bars.... I swam as a dog back to the mainland.... I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry...."  
Sirius looked to Harry, who looked back. Remus watched them both intensely, watched as if he were in Black’s place, praying…. _Believe him, Harry. I know this man; I know him, Harry. Believe him._  
"Believe me," Black croaked pleadingly. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."  
Harry gave a slow nod, turning from Sirius to Remus and back.  
"No!"  
Pettigrew collapsed to the floor, his hands clasped together, groveling at their feet. He shuffled forward on his knees, as if within that single nod he had been sentenced to death.  
"Sirius -- it's me... it's Peter... your friend... you wouldn't --" Sirius gave a hard kick toward Pettigrew, who shrank away.  
"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," Black spat.  
"Remus!" Peter now turned toward him, writhing his hands desperately. "You don't believe this, wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"  
"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Remus with a rueful smile. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he asked over Pettigrew’s head.  
"Forgive me, Remus," said Black softly.  
Remus let the words sink in. Then, he grinned. It was as if something had shifted, as if a small part of him had been put back together with Sirius’ three words. "Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," Remus replied with a small laugh. He began to roll his sleeves up. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"  
"Of course," stated Black readily, and a whisper of a smile flashed onto his gaunt face, lingering in Remus’ vision. Everything can go back to how it was, the smile seemed to say. Everything will be alright. Sirius started to fold up his sleeves as well. "Shall we kill him together?"  
"Yes, I think so," said Remus darkly, his eyes trained on Sirius.  
"You wouldn't... you won't...," stammered Pettigrew. He began turning around the room like a clockwork.  
"Ron... haven't I been a good friend... a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you... you're on my side, aren't you?”  
Ron gave no support, but an expression of complete nausea. "I let you sleep in my bed!"  
"Kind boy... kind master..." Pettigrew scrambled forward. "You won't let them do it.... I was your rat.... I was a good pet...."  
"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," stated Black roughly. Ron turned a shade paler as he repositioned his leg further away from his former pet. Pettigrew next stumbled to Hermione, clutching the hem of her robes.  
"Sweet girl... clever girl... you -- you won't let them.... Help me...."  
Hermione pulled her robes out of reach and backed into the wall, looked utterly horrified.  
Peter struggled to Harry, kneeling on the dusty floor.  
"Harry... Harry... you look just like your father... just like him...."  
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" hollered Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?" Remus put his hand on Sirius’ chest automatically. He could feel Black’s heart pounding away beneath his fingers, inside a body that had grown too fragile to carry such a weight.  
"Harry," Pettigrew shuffled forward, his arm stretching toward the boy. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed.... James would have understood, Harry... he would have shown me mercy..."  
Something snapped in Remus and Sirius at the same time. Remus didn’t know if it was Pettigrew’s mention of James or how Peter crawled to Harry like an animal, but any consequence that had slipped into his mind was now blinded by one thought, one that he knew was identical to Sirius: _Get away._  
Both Remus and Sirius marched over, gripped Pettigrew’s arms between them, and cast him backward onto the ground. He sat there dumbly, terror evident on his face, twitching and staring at him and Black.  
"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," accused Sirius, shaking in rage. "Do you deny it?"  
Peter burst into tears; Remus felt no pity, no compassion for the dirty, bawling lump of a person before him. He felt nothing except burning anger for what this man had destroyed, whom he had murdered, what lives he had torn apart. Sirius was clutching Remus’ arm so hard that it hurt, a mad gleam in his eye.  
"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done?” Pettigrew whimpered. “The Dark Lord... you have no idea... he has weapons you can't imagine.... I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen.... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me --"  
“DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"  
"He -- he was taking over everywhere!" wheezed Pettigrew. "Wh -- what was there to be gained by refusing him?"  
"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" shouted Black, hot fury seeming to radiate off of him. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"  
"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"  
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Black roared. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"  
Remus pressed his shoulder up against Black and they both raised their wands.  
"You should have realized," Remus said quietly, each chilling word hitting it’s mark, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."  
Remus was seeing through a long tunnel, aware of nothing but Sirius’ back pressed into him and his wand grasped tightly in his hand. This murderer was going to die. His and Black’s voices started together….  
"NO!" Harry streaked into Remus’ vision, blocking Pettigrew from them. "You can't kill him," he announced, panting. "You can't."  
"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled, his lip curling hatefully at Pettigrew. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."  
"I know," Harry said breathlessly. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors.... He can go to Azkaban... but don't kill him."  
"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew. "You -- thank you -- it's more than I deserve -- thank you --" Peter flung his arms outward and latched onto Harry’s legs.  
"Get off me," Harry snapped. He kicked Pettigrew off of him with visible disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because -- I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers -- just for you."  
The only sound was Peter’s loud breathing as he clutched his chest. Remus looked to Sirius uncertainly. Once, long ago, Black had been the one that reassured Remus that he wouldn’t kill anyone, that everything would be okay. _Sirius has grey eyes._ There was that arbitrary thought, rooted out randomly from the back of his head. Once again it weaved through Remus’ mind as if it were a single, great truth he could cling to, something that was real and permanent, beyond the questioning of one’s own thoughts and actions. He had the picture. It was proof. Sirius has grey eyes.  
Remus blinked and turned to Harry, almost unbelieving. How could this boy, this boy who he thought of like a son, defend his parent’s murderer? It seemed impossible, but then again, hadn’t everything seem so tonight?  
"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Black. "But think... think what he did...."  
"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does...."  
Pettigrew continued to wheeze on the floor.  
"Very well," Remus conceded. "Stand aside, Harry."  
The distrusting look he was given prompted him to elaborate.  
"I'm going to tie him up," he promised. "That's all, I swear."  
Harry moved aside, and cables now shot from Remus’ wand, tying and gagging a squirming Pettigrew.  
“But if you transform, Peter,” Sirius growled menacingly, his wand raised to point at Pettigrew as well, “we will kill you. You agree, Harry?”  
Harry gave a nod.  
“Right,” Remus stated, getting his bearings. “Ron, I can’t mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it’s best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing.”  
Remus made his way over to Ron, trying not to waste any time. He lightly tapped the injured leg with the tip of his wand, muttering “Ferula” under his breath. Rolls of bandaged unfurled and twisted into a splint around Ron’s leg. Remus helped ease Ron off the bed, bracing the extra weight. Then, he felt the load lighten as the boy took one cautious step after the other on his own without flinching in pain.  
“That's better,” Ron said politely, “Thanks.”  
“What about Professor Snape?” Hermione asked weakly, staring at the collapsed figure.  
Remus gave a small shrug. With great effort, he bent over and checked Snape’s pulse. “There’s nothing seriously wrong with him. You were just a little... overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er -- perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this….”  
Remus straightened back up and murmured “Mobilicorpus.” As if Snape were the marionette of a hidden puppeteer, invisible strings tugged his limp form up to a stand, hovering above the ground. His head bobbed up and down, lolling back and forth appallingly. Remus picked the Invisibility Cloak up from the floor, soft fabric rippling across his fingers. He folded it away in his pocket, right next to the faded picture of Sirius.  
“And two of us should be chained to _this,_ ” commented Black, jabbing Pettigrew with his foot. “Just to make sure.”  
“I'll do it,” Remus volunteered immediately.  
“And me,” Ron added, limping toward him.  
Black waved his wand, and leaden chains appeared in the air beside him. Pettigrew was lifted onto his feet, and Ron was chained to his right arm. Sirius locked the other manacle onto Remus, leaving his own palm there for just a moment longer.  
Remus looked up. Sirius seemed to be watching him as if he was only now certain he was there. Sirius has grey eyes. Remus gave a half-smile and took Black’s rawboned hand for an instant. Crookshanks bounded off of the bed and led them through the door. Everyone followed close behind, making their way out of the boarded-up shack.


	9. Chapter 9

Getting through the tunnel was more of a challenge than Remus imagined. He went first down the stairs, the heavy chain tugging on his arm. Pettigrew came next, then Ron and Hermione. Sirius and Harry came through last, their faces disappearing behind Snape’s floating form. Remus’ wand was still aimed at Pettigrew as they entered the passageway one-by-one, inching sideways along the wall to fit through.   
Remus heard Sirius and Harry’s voices murmuring in the back, beyond Snape, whose head was thumping occasionally against the low, earthy ceiling. Remus strained himself to keep alert, blinking and pinching himself alternately. The godfather and godson’s whispers dwindled into scattered words, and then there was nothing but a blanket of silence.  
Remus’ thoughts always turned to the worst moments of his life whenever he faced this smothering quiet. He tried to suppress it, tried to hold it down, but it always came back to haunt the corners of his memories. He made lists, lists of all the evils in the world, as if he could tear them up and burn them in his mind. He made lists of the good things too, but the words mingled until he couldn't tell one list from the other and became confused of what was the truth. Then he made a list of truths, small little things that he survived on. Facts. Just facts that he could keep and hold and hate and love. The three lists intertwined, until it grew into a solid mass of emotions struggling to define themselves individually. But Remus picked them off, almost desperately, one by one by one.  
 _Distant, angry father. Werewolf. No friends. Dumbledore! The Hogwarts Express. Three amazing friends. School. Sweaters. Laughter and pranks. We are the Marauders - Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs. Watching Quidditch. The Marauder’s Map. Sirius’ eyes. Sirius’ smile. Sirius’ laughter. Sirius’ jokes. They know and don’t care. Tattoos. Animagi. Full moons happen once a month. James and Lily. Peter and puns. Bets and galleons and racing brooms. The first kiss. Snape and the Incident. Dancing. Halloween and chocolate. Sirius’ lips. Sirius’ motorbike. Punk Rock. Muggle music. Cigarettes. Being in love. OWLS and NEWTS. An unemployed werewolf. Buying a flat. Holding hands. James and Lily’s wedding. Harry Potter! Marry me, Pads? Voldemort attacks. A wedding that didn’t happen. The empty flat. Lily’s comforting words.They think I'm the spy. Crying alone. Secret keepers. Sirius at the bar. Back home together. Talking. Kissing. Leaving. Waiting. Everything is okay. The Boy Who Lived and The Ones Who Died. October 31, 1981. Black and Pettigrew. Azkaban and Dumbledore’s words. Innocent or Guilty? Everything is not okay._  
The list went on and on and on. And in the shadows rang the taunting voice of Peeves, crooning, “LOONEY, LOONEY LUPIN! LOONEY, LOONEY LUPIN! LOONEY, LOONEY LUPIN’S LOST HIS LOVER!”  
A cool breeze shivered over Remus as the tunnel opened up to the grounds of the school. Crookshanks had sped ahead and pressed the Willow’s knot, allowing Remus, and the two linked to him by the chain, to stumble outside without the threat of attacking tree limbs.  
As soon as Remus was assured that everyone had made it through safely, he set off once more, squinting in the almost-total darkness. Warm lights shimmered in the windows of the castle ahead, greeting them as distantly as the stars. Remus’s thin shoes were soaked with dew, the grass sinking under his feet and clinging to his legs. One eye was constantly focused on Pettigrew, watching every footstep with strict suspicion.   
“One wrong move, Peter,” he threatened, motioning to the side of Pettigrew’s chest with his wand. The lantern-lit panes of the school grew steadily larger, signifying that their arrival was near.   
Then, the familiar freezing, burning pain shot through Remus’ spine, and his vision doubled. A thick cloud faltered and revealed the full moon, hanging in the sky, staring down, down, down…. Remus couldn't think, he couldn't breathe; he was frozen, rooted to the spot, bathed in the terrible, blinding, ice-silver light.   
No. No. Nononono. He couldn't, he wouldn't, this wasn't happening. Harry was in danger, they were all in danger, they had to get away. Sirius, Sirius would help him Sirius knew what to do healwaysknewwhattodoSiriuscouldmakeitstopmakeitstopMAKEITSTOP….  
Remus began to shake. He couldn't stop the trembling, the twitching. It was consuming him, it was eating him alive. And the pain, the pain was too much. It was as if his heart were being torn from his chest, his bones collapsing, his lungs caving in.   
There were distant, panicked, voices that blurred together. There was a pounding in his head, louder and louder. Remus was gasping, drowning, losing himself. And yet, it was as if his head was splitting in two, a ribbon of odd nonchalance fading away. _Oh dear, I forgot to take my potion tonight. This is very painful. The children might be bitten; they really are in quite a predicament aren't they? The moon is cold. This hurts very much. Sirius has grey eyes._   
The voices surged in and out, rolling like ocean waves, delayed, like an echo. And then, cutting through the fog of Remus’s mind, his vision, his hearing, was Sirius’ voice, sharp, like a blade.  
“Run. Run now.” Then again, more urgent.  
“Leave it to me -- RUN!”   
Remus was bent over, his shoulders hunched. He was losing the battle. No matter how many times he endured it, the changing hurt worse than anything in the world; it was everything in the world. Claws and fur sprouted outward, ripping the fabric of his clothes. The picture of Sirius and the Invisibility Cloak fluttered out of his pocket and onto the ground. Remus backed away, snarling, and the shackle on his wrist snapped. He was a monster with no mind, and what he saw and heard and felt was everything and nothing.  
He saw a shape, a figure, barreling toward him. Sirius. Sirius, who embraced him as a beast, clutching him tightly, yelling in Remus’s ears but making no sound at all. Sirius wanted him. Sirius was trying to bring him back. Sirius loved him and missed him and couldn’t lose him again. Sirius was crying; crying for Harry, whom he had lost to his years in Azkaban; crying for Remus, whom he had lost to mistrust; crying for those who were dead and gone and bones. Sirius was crying for his family.  
As the fragmented reality began to dim, and Sirius’ silhouette dissipated into a massive dog form, Remus saw through his failing eyes, a pair of grey ones. _Sirius has grey eyes. I love those eyes._ Remus shuddered and twitched spasmodically… The thought slipped away. Everything was so fast and so long; a hellish kind of paradox. Remus felt his grip slipping, was aware of the huge black canine charging toward him, and he slowly surrendered himself to the howling animal that wasn't him.


End file.
